Her voice reminded Tessa of a young girl’s. It was as though her body had grown old without her knowledge. Her clothes were a rainbow of colors, causing her to look like a Bohemian traveler. Her silver-streaked dark hair was partially covered with a multi-colored, striped scarf. A fuchsia blouse peeked out from beneath her black vest, and a patchwork skirt swung loosely around her small frame. She smelled like lavender and pine needles. A memory surfaced in the back of Tessa’s mind.
“Crazy Kate?” Tessa asked before she could stop herself.
Years ago, Kate Muir had lived in a cottage at the southernmost tip of town near the river’s edge. Knobby trees hid the cottage from the road, and children had been warned to stay away from Crazy Kate’s house, which meant that nearly every kid in town had been dared to creep through the trees with the hopes of catching a glimpse of the town eccentric. What made Kate Muir crazy was watery knowledge; she was older than everyone else in town and rumor said she had lived in Mystic Water before time began.
When they were eight years old, Lily and Anna had dared Tessa to sneak up to the cottage and bring something back as evidence of her success. Tessa had moved through the trees with her heart pounding so fiercely in her chest that she felt her pulse in her tongue. She had already imagined her mama finding out and whipping her. The thick canopy of trees had turned sunlight into a dreamy, green haze that glowed against Tessa’s skin.
As she neared the cottage, Tessa heard the river bubbling over rocks. Wind chimes made from miscellaneous homemade materials hung from trees. Cobalt, glass bottles sprouted from low branches like magical extensions of the trees. The wind blew, and the forest filled with ghostly voices and sounds like those made by a child’s music box. Suncatchers dangling from the trees reflected the sunlight, creating kaleidoscopes across the damp earth and across Tessa’s clothes.
Tessa had lost track of time staring at the changing colors and listening to the eerie music. Then the front door of the cottage opened, and Crazy Kate stepped out. Her hair had been raven black, braided in a long plait that fell down her back. Crazy Kate had sniffed the air, turned her head, and looked straight at Tessa. In a panic, Tessa had reached out, snatched the nearest suncatcher, and ran for her life.
Crazy Kate narrowed one eye and frowned. “I said, have you eaten from the garden?”
“I’m sorry?” Tessa asked, stepping backward, feeling like her eight-year-old self in the woods.
Crazy Kate stepped toward Tessa, holding her bag of candy against her chest. “The garden. I saw you working with Cecilia Borelli tonight. I noticed she gave you a plant.”
“Oh,” Tessa said and tried to smile. “You mean at the diner? Yes, ma’am. The storm made a mess of Mrs. Borelli’s garden, and I was helping her repair what we could. She uses the herbs and vegetables from the garden in her cooking.”
“Well?” Crazy Kate asked. She nodded her head as if coaxing Tessa to say more.
Tessa frowned. “Well what?”
Crazy Kate exhaled. “The plant, child! Have you used it in your cooking yet?” she asked, stepping even closer to Tessa and gazing up at her in a way that made Tessa glance around the shop for an escape route.
“Sort of,” Tessa said. “I don’t really cook, but she gave me mint, so I made tea.”
Crazy Kate’s dark eyes widened, and she bounced on her toes. The pink candy bag crinkled in her tightening grip. She smiled and Tessa was caught off guard by Crazy Kate’s unexpected beauty.
“And what happened?” Crazy Kate asked.
“I drank it,” Tessa said. “And I should be going. Have a good night.” Tessa tried to walk past her, but Crazy Kate grabbed her arm with surprising strength.
“You have to tell me what happened to you after you drank it,” Crazy Kate said.
“I don’t mean to be impolite, but this conversation is a little weird, and I’m not sure what you’re asking,” Tessa said.
Crazy Kate tightened her grip. “That land is special. You, of all people, should know that,” she said. “Tell me what happened to you tonight after you drank the tea.”
Tessa pried Crazy Kate’s fingers from her arm. She lowered her voice and whispered, “I’m going to apologize ahead of time for disrespecting an elder, but you’re crazy.”
“And you’re a thief,” Crazy Kate whispered in return. “We all have our flaws.”
Tessa’s mouth dropped open.
“That was my favorite suncatcher, and you were, what? Eight? Awful young to be a delinquent,” Crazy Kate said. “When the rosemary and lavender in the garden are mature, I’ll take dried lavender and Cecilia’s rosemary tea. My memory is giving me a bit of trouble these days, and I could use a boost. You can bottle the rosemary tea and bag up the lavender. Bring it to my house. It won’t make up for what you stole, but it’s a start.”
Crazy Kate patted Tessa on the arm and smiled. Mischief crackled from her fingers and prickled Tessa’s skin.
“Go on, child,” Crazy Kate said. “Sprinkle some thyme from the garden into your potatoes, and tell me you don’t know the rain is coming before everyone else knows.” Then she spun on her tiny feet and headed for the cash register.
Once Tessa was back inside the apartment, she walked over to the pot of tea she’d made with the mint leaves. She used her finger and scooped out the few leaves that stuck to the bottom of her empty mug. Pressing the wet leaves between her fingers, she closed her eyes and focused on how the mint made her feel. Her fingers felt slimy and cold, and she opened her eyes, rolled them, and shook her head.
“Really, Tessa?” she asked herself. “You’re listening to Crazy Kate?”
Tessa poured herself another mug of mint tea and microwaved it until steam swirled from the top. She dropped her bag of caramel crèmes on the coffee table. Then she grabbed one of the magazines from the bookshelf and tucked herself onto the couch. She squished herself into the corner cushions, held her mug in both hands, and propped the magazine across her thighs. As Tessa sipped and lazily flipped through the pages of a travel magazine, she occasionally reached over and pulled a piece of candy from her bag. She was halfway through the first magazine before she stopped on a four-page article about the breathtaking landscape of New Zealand and its inhabitants, the Maori, written by Paul Borelli.
Tessa read straight through his article, and by the end of it, she wanted to go there immediately. In fact, she wished she had been there with him. Paul wrote like a storyteller, pulling in his readers like a man weaving a tale around a campfire.
She tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and grabbed an armful of magazines from the bookshelves. Just as she assumed, the magazines all contained Paul’s articles, probably Harry’s doing again. Tessa drank three more glasses of tea while she traveled across the world with Paul and his bewitching words. She fell asleep dreaming of being lost somewhere in the Amazon jungle, championing for rain forest protection and eating her fill of mangoes and passion fruit, wondering if she would ever find a home.
5
Deconstructed Breakfast Burrito
Tessa woke up early the next morning when her cell phone started ringing at six a.m. She tried to roll off her bed and rolled into the back of the couch instead. She stared at the tan fabric one inch from her face for a few seconds before she remembered she was in the apartment above the diner. Tessa flipped over and reached for her phone on the coffee table where magazines and caramel crème wrappers were scattered everywhere. She checked the number; it was the president of her building’s HOA.
“Good morning, Mr. Fleming. Tell me you have good news,” she said.
“I have a mix of news,” he said.
“Good news first,” Tessa said, sitting up on the couch and stretching her neck. She raked her fingers through her hair.
“The water has started to recede,” Mr. Fleming said. “You can come on back and see the place for yourself. Salvage what you can.”
Tessa’s heart squeezed. “Salvage sounds disheartening.”
Mr. Fleming c
leared his throat. “There’s a man here this morning, Tessa. He stopped by first thing. He’s interested in buying this whole place up—all the units, even the undamaged ones—and remodeling the building in the next year or so. He’s offering residents very high prices, especially considering the state of everything. It’s a good deal. For all of us.”
Tessa rubbed her eyes and stood. “Wait, I don’t think I’m following you. It sounds as though someone has offered to buy our building. And people are selling? Because of a little flood water?”
“I think it’s best if you come on down and have a look for yourself. Then you call me back, and we’ll talk more,” Mr. Fleming said.
Tessa ended the call and stared at the mess of magazines all open to Paul’s articles. She scooped up the candy wrappers and rushed around to clean up the clutter. She returned the magazines to the shelves, which gave her time to think about the conversation with Mr. Fleming. Was the state of her condo that bad? Were the other owners leaving? Couldn’t they repair the damage? That was her home. She jotted the questions down in her notebook. Then, on a new page, she wrote, Should I sell my home? She numbered one through five down the left side of the page, and beside number one she wrote, No. It can’t be that bad.
She glanced at the mint plant on the plant stand. It had stretched its gangly legs toward the map. A few tendrils were wrapped around silver pushpins in Alaska, Hawaii, and French Polynesia. Traveling around the world seemed glamorous from one angle, and Tessa had slipped right into Paul’s adventures the night before. But the thought of being homeless made her feel as though she’d eaten undercooked scrambled eggs. She skipped making coffee and jumped in the shower, dressed, and drove to her condo.
The closer Tessa got to her condo building and Jordan Pond, the more the air smelled like mildew and decaying, sodden leaves. Miscellaneous items, stolen by the floodwaters, collected at the sides of the streets and speckled front yards. A three-legged lawn chair lay against the curb, crumpled and muddy. Baby dolls, splattered with pond scum and leaves, convened beneath an oak tree. A summer dress and broad-brimmed hat hung from the lowest branches of a Japanese magnolia, looking like a ghost dancing in the breeze.
High-powered, industrial vacuums snaked their long hoses out of homes, sucking the water from the interiors and dumping it into the gutters lining the streets. Hundreds of flood-drying fans filled the air with a constant humming, and the entire town seemed to vibrate beneath the noise.
Tessa pulled into the parking lot behind her building. There was still a foot of standing water putrefying in the sun. Tessa kicked off her flats and pulled on her pink rubber boots. The amount of mud and grime covering the walls of the building, covering the abandoned cars, covering everything, shocked her. Beneath the mud and debris, only the roof of her car was still a recognizable color.
She sloshed through the muck and water, squelching as she walked, and when she rounded the corner leading to her bottom floor condo, she gasped. Jordan Pond had definitely receded, but it looked as though it had also tossed out a half-century’s worth of gunk and tree branches onto the surrounding areas. Her backyard looked like a Mississippi swamp or a mud pit or a combination of both.
Someone had tried to close her condo door, but the door had swollen like a magazine in a swimming pool, and it refused to shut completely. Tessa didn’t even need her key. She tried to push open the door, but it didn’t budge. She rammed her shoulder against it, and as it groaned open, it sent a low wave of water through the living room.
For a few seconds, Tessa couldn’t even react. Looking inside her condo felt like looking at some foreign hut she’d never set foot in before. There was no way this place had been her home. Mud, garbage, and grime covered the furniture, floors, and her personal belongings. Water stains marked the walls three feet high. She knew the sheetrock was destroyed, probably already growing enough mold to call for an evacuation. Tessa covered her mouth with her hand, pulled in a shuddering breath, and cried.
She moved through the condo in silence, the sight of each room bringing more tears to her eyes. When she stepped into her bedroom, a fat toad croaked at her from the bed. It stared at her with glassy, black eyes. “Have it,” she whispered. “It’s yours.” Then she pulled out her phone and called Lily.
Tessa hefted another cardboard box from the front stoop of the apartment and carried it inside. The cardboard stunk like spilled beer and stagnant water. She held it as far from her body as possible without dropping it. Water rushed through the pipes as the faucets in the bathroom were turned on. Tessa walked through the bedroom and into the en suite bathroom.
Lily knelt in front of the garden tub and held a muddy stuffed animal beneath the water. She scrubbed its head and arms with a bar of soap. “First, I need you to promise me that you’ll never tell Mrs. Borelli that we contaminated her bathtub while washing gross pond muck out of your stuff,” Lily said. “And secondly, how attached are you to this?” She held up the soiled teddy bear. Its wet fur was matted with filth.
Tessa’s bottom lip trembled. She wanted to tell Lily that she’d received that teddy bear as a gift from her grandpa on her sixteenth birthday, but she knew if she opened her mouth, she’d blubber all over the place.
Lily dropped the bear in the tub and stood, reaching for a towel already stained with mud. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said, pulling Tessa into an awkward, straight-armed hug. “I don’t want to touch you with my hands. I’m pretty sure I have cooties,” she continued, smiling at Tessa. “Look at all the stuff we saved.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm.
Shoes, picture frames, DVDs, bags, an assortment of kitchen items, and a few armfuls of books had been salvaged from her ruined condo. They were scattered across the bathroom floor in little piles, drying on towels.
“We’ve already taken your clothes to the cleaners,” Lily reminded her. “You’ll have a fully functioning wardrobe in a few days. You have a working car, even if it is the Great Pumpkin. The Borellis have stocked your fridge. And let’s not forget you have a perfectly good place to stay.”
“I can’t stay here forever,” Tessa complained, heaving a sigh.
“Of course not,” Lily said. “But we’re not talking about forever. We’re talking about right now. And right now you have plenty of people who are making sure you’re okay. Let’s go brew some tea. I have a little bit longer before I need to be back at work, and I think you need a mental break.”
Tessa glanced around at the pieces of her life on the bathroom floor before following Lily into the living room. Lily pointed at the mint plant, which stretched long runners in two directions, as she continued into the kitchen. Half of its green, leafy legs stretched toward the open window, and the others reached for the wall map. “What are you feeding that thing?” Lily asked.
“Water,” Tessa said with a shrug. “Mrs. Borelli said her plants are hardy.” She walked toward the mint and popped off a handful of leaves. Then she patted its head as though it were a pet.
Tessa dropped the leaves into the porcelain teapot on the counter and put the kettle on the stove while Lily washed her hands and made herself a cup of coffee. Lily opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of strawberries. Two recipe cards were attached to the front of the container.
Lily eyed the top recipe card titled For When You Need Comfort. “Does Mrs. Borelli know what happened the last time you decided you wanted to cook?”
Tessa snatched the strawberries from Lily. “It’s for pancakes.” She plucked one recipe card from the carton and read through the instructions. “This sounds like an easy recipe. No one can destroy pancakes.”
“Except you,” Lily said as she reached for a strawberry and bit into it.
“Except me.” Tessa sighed. “At least the other recipe is for tea. I can’t mess up tea, right?”
Lily raised her eyebrows in response. When the kettle whistled, Lily pulled it from the stove. She filled the teapot and watched as mint leaves floated to the top. She leaned over the teapot and
inhaled. “I love how refreshing mint smells. It clears my head.”
Tessa looked up at Lily and watched a calming effect settle over Lily’s features. She thought of the conversation in the candy store with Crazy Kate. Lily filled a mug with tea for Tessa before filling her own mug with steaming black coffee.
“Do you think herbs have special powers?” Tessa asked.
Lily sat down across from Tessa at the table. She cupped her mug in both hands. “Like medicinal properties? Sure. There’s tons of proof that supports it.”
Tessa fiddled with a button on her shirt. “What about magical properties?”
Lily snorted. “Like what?”
“Like maybe eating an herb, say thyme for example, could give you the ability to predict the weather. Before it happens,” Tessa said, feeling stupider with each word she spoke. Why did she care what Crazy Kate thought? If she believed the local nut, Tessa might as well join her at the edge of town.
Lily narrowed her eyes at Tessa, and then she laughed. “What are you going on about? Have you been eating the wacky weed? Is Mrs. Borelli growing something else in her garden?” Lily joked. “If an herb could make me predict the weather, then I’d make a bazillion dollars because even the weathermen can’t tell a rainy day from a sunny one.”
“Forget it,” Tessa said, but still she leaned over her mug of mint tea and inhaled. Her mind cleared instantly; the tense muscles in her shoulders relaxed. She glanced across the room at the wall map as thoughts of traveling swept into her mind. “What are you doing tonight? Do you think Jakob could spare you? We could make the pancake recipe.”
“You mean, I could make the recipe while you loiter around in the kitchen?” Lily asked with a smile.
“Basically, yes,” Tessa said. “I just don’t feel like being alone tonight, and Mama and Daddy are gone for months. If I hang out with anyone else, I’ll have to pretend that I don’t feel like crap, and I don’t have the energy.”
Honeysuckle Hollow Page 4
